Radiogurl a la Carte

Friday, Jan. 07, 2005
Ku Ku Kachoo

It's Friday. Hallelujah!

This was the neverending week, or so it seemed. Between the cold that is still holding me in a vise grip, and the insanity of the business, and the spawn of Satan who invades my house on a whim, I'm ready to run screaming into the night. Except I still can't scream, thanks to a virus and its side-effect of laryngitis.

And yes, that's an official diagnosis. I finally broke down and went to see the doctor yesterday. She didn't tell me anything that was a huge surprise, but she gave me some seriously good drugs. So now even though I'm still sick, I don't care that I'm still sick. The stuff knocks me on my butt, though - I took a dose yesterday afternoon about 4, fell asleep at 6pm and slept through until 8:30 this morning (thus BARELY making it to work at 9.) Good stuff!

Actually she gave me two prescriptions - one for a cough syrup and one that's an antihistimine. I'm a major lightweight - rarely drink, never smoke, don't touch anything beyond that except the occasional over-the-counter cold med or aspirin. So believe me, this stuff leaves me way out there in lala land!

I managed to live until 5pm at the studios tonight, though I considered leaving several times. I didn't feel great, but the reason for leaving was more that my eyes were crossing, which makes it tough to write the news. Reading the news was still out of the question, so I was just doing the background stuff.

I stopped en route to pick up some cereal, cheese, and a burger, because I knew once I got home I did NOT intend to stick my head out all weekend, and after last night I knew these meds would render me incapable of performing anything that might require me to interact with a source of ignition (i.e., a stove.) I arrived home to find that Youngest Daughter had not only returned from her latest paramour's house, but she was in need of a ride to the ER.

Now before anyone judges me here, I should clarify that Youngest Daughter is a genuine-article, bona fide hypochondriac. If she breaks a nail she wants to go to the ER to be sure it's not infected or a sign of a chronic and deadly disease. This time out, the excursion was very serious - she has a rash. It's one she's had for about two weeks or so, and she's already seen the doctor about it. But she insisted that it couldn't possibly wait until normal hours and that it warranted a trip to the ER. The doctor suspected that it's an allergic rash (the kid legitimately DOES have a wide array of allergies.)

Now, I was faced with a dilemma. By now I have learned that telling her no will only subject me to hours of nonstop grief. On a scale of 1 to 10 on the whine-o-meter, she's about 1000. My second option was to haul her to the ER while the employees there either 1) shot daggers at me with their expressions or 2) ordered a toe tag for me, from the way I was feeling about that point. And while I gave serious thought to the second option as a way out of the daughter's whine-fest, I figured the quarters they give you as a corpse are a little small even for my tastes. Not to mention the thing about cold and dark and no air, etc.

00 already deserves cannonization for the number of times that she's gotten me off the hook, hauling this child wherever she "must" got, without fail, this time. But Pipeboy was out of town with their truck, so 00 had no way of hauling Youngest Daughter to the ER either.

In the end, 00 agreed to haul Youngest Daughter to the ER - after Pipeboy gets back from his mom's house in the Phoenix metro area. (Bless 00 from the bottom of my heart.) Youngest Daughter was in full support of this decision, which both tells you just how grumpy I was when I arrived home to her latest bout of pain-in-the-ass-itis, and how desperately ill she is (NOT!)

Granddaughter will be back Sunday, which means all of the food that I bought to last me for the next two weeks will be gone in three days and I'll get whining for more, not to mention being told that they don't like what I have (of course Youngest Daughter will tell me this after opening it and throwing it out, so I can't eat it either.)

However - I might just have FINALLY found the silver lining. My friend in Indy told me there's an opening in her department at the University there. It pays slightly less than what I make here (though not by much) and offers benefits, AND if I travel across the planet via greyhound or plane, the kidlets cannot accompany me.

My mission for the weekend is therefore to get my resumé rewritten and fax a signed job application to the right people. Then cross my fingers and wait. I'm so overqualified for this job that it's not funny, but at this point I don't give a flying whoopity-do. I just want a chance to construct something that resembles a normal life, and I'm never going to have it here.

Before - After

In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )